Burning
by Somekindofdarkness
Summary: She loves him too much, and he doesn't love her enough.


Love isn't supposed to hurt this much, is it?

It isn't supposed to make you feel helpless, powerless, weak. Love is supposed to lift you up. Empower you. It should be happiness, but it's nowhere near that. It's painful, sharp stabbing pains in your stomach. The burn in your eyes from crying and the throbbing you feel from swollen eyes. Love burns.

Love is also possessiveness. That claim to someone's heart, their soul. They give you a part of them that is fragile, vulnerable. You return it, giving them everything that could break you, trusting each other not to damage what makes us go on living. They protect it, guard it like it's their own. At least, that's what they're supposed to do.

My heart has burns, and scratches - gashes even, covering it in a tarnished casing. My heart is in someone's possession. Someone who is reckless, and dangerous. Careless with his life and mine. Someone who hurts me, but I can't stop. I revel in the feel of his burns. It's the only thing I have to hold onto, when he leaves me.

I love him, even though I shouldn't. My heart controls me, nothing else. I am in a constant haze of all things that make me love him. The cigarette smoke on his clothes, the taste of whiskey on his tongue. His fingers, running them across my ribs, leaving his stained mark. It's in the roughness of his kisses, the softness of his hands, and the way he says my name.

One look from him and I don't question the way love is supposed to be and not be. When he looks at me, like he is now, with sorrow and pain in his eyes, I only feel the burning fire that is my love for him. So why is it when I'm alone, I question everything that makes us, us?

He's staring at me, his eyes are dark, almost cloudy. His eyelids are heavy and the whiteness of his eyes have turned red. He's high, maybe drunk.

_I should have known._

He walks towards me, and I'm angry. One look at his face, and I want to kiss all the pain and anger away. I want to make everything better, but I can't. And I hate myself for wanting him so badly.

I can't fix the mess that is Edward Cullen. I've tried, and I've _gotten_ burned in the process, learning that kisses and _I love you'_s don't change anything.

I love him, and I shouldn't.

He loves me too, with every fiber of his being. I can _feel _it. I feel it when he touches me. His lips and fingers writing words into my skin, things that his mouth refuses to say. He loves me, but he's wrong for me. That's the worst part, knowing something is wrong for you but you can't stay away. It hurts, knowing he's wrong for me. But how can something so wrong, so damaged, feel so right?

It feels like we made for each other. I was born to love him, and he was born to love me. We were made for this dark and twisty romance.

He is every bit consuming and I can't get enough.

He leans back against his car, waiting for me to say something. He knows I'm angry and hurt.

_He left me._

He left me to go get high and I'm reminded once again that I don't mean more to him than his craving to smoke a few trees or pop a few pills. I refuse to believe he does anything else, but deep down, I know he does.

Tears roll down my face and he cringes. He hates it when I cry, and I curse myself for trying to stop, just for his benefit. More tears fall, as a result and when he steps forward, I step away. I'm not ready to forgive him. Again.

He stands up straighter, his eyes blurry and hooded.

"Bella, stop crying." He sounds detached.

I can't stop. This pain of not being enough for him consumes me. I want to be enough, to be the only thing he wants. So I cry, refusing to look him in the eyes.

A sob escapes my mouth, "I wish I could hate you." My voice is quiet, but he hears me. The look on his face tells me I hurt him. Good. He hurt me too.

"Why would you say that?"

I say nothing and I can see by the way he stands, he's angry.

"What the fuck, Bella. Why would you say that?"

I'm not phased by his anger, if anything, I'm more angry.

"It hurts!"

He looks worried, and then he's angry again, "What?"

"All the time, Edward. You hurt me, and I wish I could hate you, so that I could have the courage to leave you." My voice is sharp, but I don't yell.

His shoulders are tense, and his mouth tight. "Is that what you want? Then fucking do it! Leave, Bella. Fucking leave!" He's yelling now, and I back away from him, from the intensity of his voice.

"I can't!" I'm yelling and crying now, too. "I love you too much to ever leave you!"

My voice cracks and he stands there stunned. If he wants to say something, he doesn't.

I continue, "I love you so much, it hurts me. It hurts me all the time, because I know that I will never be enough for you! You will always crave the drugs, and the alcohol. And you will always leave when Jasper calls." I take a shaky breath. "You will never love me as much as you love getting lost in the clouds with your pipe and your whiskey and whatever else you do."

He says nothing and I can't stop. Everything I feel comes rushing out, burning holes into his tainted heart.

"I wish I was enough for you, like you are for me. I want you to get lost in me, and crave me! I want you to love me." My voice is quiet now, shallow. The pain is evident, and I can't look at him yet.

He's quiet, still. I notice the shift of his feet and I glance at him, through my tears. A single tear rolls down his face, and it makes me want to kiss him, to make all the pain stop.

When he talks, it's in a low whisper, his voice raspy, "I love you, Bella. I love you and I can't ever stop. But I can't change who I am."

I nod, because I know it's the truth.

He runs his hands through his hair, pulling at the roots. "Fuck, Bella. You know I'm wrong for you! If I could stay away from you, I would, I'd be anywhere but here, but I can't."

The words, "_I can't,_" are laced with fear and sadness. I know the feeling, of not being able to walk away. To feel helpless.

My heart aches and my head throbs. I want his arms to wrap around me, but I refuse to go to him. He stays away, almost afraid.

He's speaking louder now, but still shaky, "I love you, so much Bella." He takes a ragged breath, pulling his hair again. "Baby, you can't leave me. You just - You can't, I need you."

It's as if all my anger was gone, listening to his words. And then I'm in his arms, sobbing into his chest. His arms are wound tightly around me shoulders, holding me close. He smells like cigarettes and whisky and his angry boy shampoo. He smells like home.

He kisses the top of my head, "I won't leave, baby, I promise. I won't leave if you just stay. Stay with me, Bella. Be with me me. Be my Bella."

I choke out another sob, his pleading only makes me hold on tighter.

"I'll never leave you, Edward. I can't, just please.." I can't find the words to finish.

He kisses me, soft at first but it quickly turns rough, heated. Urgent. My hands wrap around his neck, pulling him down to me, his hands wrapping in my hair. He feels so good.

He breaks the kiss, breathless, "You're enough for me, baby. You're enough."

I'm crying again, because I know it's not true. And I hate myself for loving the words that come out of his mouth. If only for a little while, I'll pretend he's telling the truth, that I really am enough.

He kisses me again, _I love you _seeping onto my skin through his lips.

He takes me inside his apartment, shoving me into the wall, then throwing me onto the bed. He's urgent, needy, his intensity is almost frightening, but I feel nothing but safe in his grasp. He's rough, bit soft and he's loving me just how I like it.

He's ripping my clothes off and devouring me with his mouth. Where he begins and I end, I have no idea and I never want to find out. I want to stay like this, forever. Tangled.

I cry out his name and he fills me, taking me whole. Hands gripping and pulling skin, open mouthed kisses across my stomach and chest. He's biting and sucking and I finish before he even starts moving. He feels so good. His thrusts are deep and hard, his soft hands are the perfect balance to the roughness of his kisses, and the hardness that continues to make me cry out.

"I love you, I love you, Bella. God - fuck," he pushes into my harder, "I love you so fucking much."

He pushes harder, trying to fuck the words into me, and I let him. I believe him.

I pull him closer to me, if that's possible. I leave scratches and I burn my finger tips into his back. Claiming him.

I bite his neck, his lips, his collar bone and he's coming. Filling me inside with his silent words of love and desperation, claiming me, I finish with him, showing him how much I love him, while I cry out his name.

I fall asleep with his name on my lips, and wrapped in his arms.

When I wake up, he's gone. Cigarette smoke still lingers in the air.

He left, and I'm surrounded by our love stained sheets, knowing that I will never leave and he will never leave the craving to be anywhere but here, with me.

We will always be wrong, tainted. He will always be enough, burning through my skin.

Closing my eyes, I feel the slow simmer of another fiery burn, wrapping itself around my heart, casing my flesh in a black cloak.

I revel in the feel of it, the ever burning flame that is Edward Cullen.


End file.
